


Silver and Violet

by missmadeinheaven



Series: Silver and Violet [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dragons, F/M, Oral Sex, Resurrection, Sex, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-09 12:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmadeinheaven/pseuds/missmadeinheaven
Summary: Not even death can stop love.





	1. Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how often I'll update this, I just wanted to write something about Jon and Dany. Hopefully I'll keep up with it but I'm not promising anything. I just...really don't like how GoT ended. I'm not the greatest writer either so...I don't know. We'll see how it goes, I guess.
> 
> Oh yeah, the awesome header image is by a great Jonerys tumblr user: jon-erys @jon-erys.tumblr.com

 

The snow.

It was beautiful, a welcome sight every day. Not in the sense it was pleasurable or delightful, but that it was familiar, something ever present here in the North. The way the sun rose and filled in the mountain cracks off in the horizon could soothe even the wildest beast’s soul.

  
Jon exited the small hut he had built for himself. It wasn’t pretty to look at but it served its purpose. The wildlings accepted his presence, choosing to respect his privacy and need to be left alone. It wasn’t that he didn’t want company, he enjoyed being around them and they clearly loved him, he just felt...disconnected.

Nothing felt the same anymore. Food didn’t taste right. Something was simply... _missing_.

He looked towards the sky, admiring the rosy pinks and lavenders blending together among the clouds. He closed his eyes and buried the hope of seeing a dragon. How long had it been since he saw her last? A few months? A year or two? Honestly he had lost count.

It didn’t matter anyway. He plunged that dagger right through her chest. She died in his arms. Those dreamy, lost lavender eyes closing for the last time haunted him every night. How child-like, how innocent and happy she seemed to be around him. He could feel her love for him pouring out of her soul and directly into his.

Did it have to be done? Couldn’t there have been some other way?

He ached every day. She was his family. But before he knew that, she was his love. He had never felt love like hers--accepting and all encompassing. Something he had never had before. She was everything.

“My Queen,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m so sorry.”

The clouds were silver against the backdrop of violet and pink. Her colors. Soft, gentle, and unyielding. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He walked away from the sunrise and fresh piles of snow to return to the village. He needed to go fishing and he wondered if Tormund would be around.

  
As he drew closer to the village, his direwolf Ghost appeared to walk at his side. Jon never did learn how he lost his ear, but it didn’t seem to bother Ghost at all. He gave the direwolf a pat on the head.  
Everyone was already busy when he arrived at the village. Women were watching their children playing while cooking, some chopped wood, and most of the men were eating breakfast before they went off hunting.

A young woman approached him and held out a plate. The cooked fish must have just come off the grill as it was steaming. Jon’s mouth watered. He should make his own food.

“I--” he began.

The young woman had flaming red hair, all copper in the sunlight. Her freckles dotted along her nose and under her emerald-blue eyes. She smiled shyly and continued to hold out the plate.

She reminded him of Ygritte.

He accepted the plate and nodded with a faint smile. “Thank-you.”

He sat on the ground and ate while watching the activity of the village. Everyone looked happy--smiling and laughing, embracing one another. He had to admit, he missed being held.

So busy with his own thoughts he didn’t notice Tormund approach. “Some men in armor are here to see you. They say it’s important,” he said. “Better go find out what the dumb cunts want.”

Jon was shocked. Who would want to see him? This far beyond the remnants of the Wall, no less.

“Did they come from the South or the North?”

“Everywhere is South. This is the North. Go! I want to eat,” Tormund grunted.

Jon shook his head and set aside his plate. “I’ll find out.”

It wasn’t hard spotting the visitors. The wildlings gave them a wide berth and their armor was almost blinding by the light of the sun. Upon closer inspection, their armor bore the sigil of a direwolf.

“Sansa,” he said under his breath. He shouldn’t feel bitter towards his sister--who cared that she was actually his cousin--but he harbored much resentment at her.

“The Queen wanted us to personally deliver this message to you,” one said. He handed Jon a small scroll sealed with wax and a delicate ribbon tied in a perfect bow.

“Sansa,” Jon repeated. “The Queen.”

He gestured for them them to leave but they remained.

“We uh...are here to wait for your response,” the other soldier said after he cleared his throat.

Jon turned away as he opened the scroll. His gloved hands smoothed the paper as he read his sister’s perfect script.

 _Jon~_  
_Whispers speak of a silver-haired, purple-eyed maiden in Volantis. Daenerys is dead, and we may have an impostor wanting to take up her cause. This is most unsettling news. However, there is more. Drogon has been spotted several times in the East. This could all mean nothing, but Tyrion wanted you to look into it. Will you please help?_  
_~Sansa Stark, Queen of the North_

He crumpled the scroll in his fist and tossed it to the ground. What was his sister thinking? Daenerys was dead. What did he care if someone wanted to imitate her? It’s not as if this girl, whoever she was, had the Unsullied and Dothraki at her back. There was no point in chasing ghosts.

Surely, if it was that critical, Bran would do something.

He turned back to the Stark soldiers.

“Tell Sansa I am declining to give my aid.”

He walked back to his hut with Ghost at his side. He went inside and closed the door behind him. He sat on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands.

“Dany...”

She was dead. He knew that. He was the one that killed her. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes. Whoever was playing this joke was cruel. He stood up and kicked the one chair he owned into the wall. It broke, the wood clattering to the floor in a pile of dust.

“D--no.”

His brain knew the facts but his heart told him otherwise.

He searched under his bed and pulled out a small pouch. He didn’t have much gold, but maybe it would be enough to sail to Volantis.


	2. Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey begins with one small step...followed by several thousand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, I can't believe the response I've gotten for this story! I'm so happy that most of you like it. Hopefully I'll stick with this until it's done. Now, let's see where this story takes us!
> 
>  
> 
> Header image - jon-erys @jon-erys.tumblr.com

 

 

Darkness.

Blackness as far as her eyes could see. There were no vague shapes to sense or reach out for. The air was cold yet thick like smoke and she found it difficult to breathe. Then the screams began. Children crying for their mothers, women and men shrieking in terror. A dragon’s roar followed by the sound of engulfing flames.

It was all too terrible. She clapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.

“No,” she breathed. “No!”

The screams grew louder and louder until it became deafening. Physical pain tore through her body with each passing second, the heat of a knife spreading outward from her torso. She started to scream, her voice blending in with everyone else’s.

“No! No! No!”

She couldn’t hear herself. She had to get out of this nightmare!

“Jon!”

~

Jon’s eyes flew open.

His body felt aflame. Blood coursing through his veins ran hot and all he wanted to do was jump into the nearest body of water. He felt this sensation only a handful of times in his life, but the feeling usually passed as soon as it came.

“Dany,” he whispered.

She was always warm but her hands were cool to the touch. Whenever she held onto him the fire calmed and his mind eased. He ached to hold her just for the peace of mind, but he knew it was more than that he wanted.

He sighed. It was almost dawn. He got up and began putting on his armor. Ghost watched him, whimpering, worried for his companion. Jon knelt down and hugged the direwolf and lovingly scratched behind his one ear.

“You stay here with Tormund. I’m going South. But I promise you I will be back. This is not good-bye, my friend.”

Ghost licked Jon’s cheek and whimpered again.

After he was dressed, he grabbed his sword, Longclaw, and leather pouch of gold and left his hut. He was in the middle of readying his horse when Tormund approached him.

“Where you going? I could hear you screaming most of the night.”

“South,” Jon replied with no emotion in his voice. “Watch over Ghost for me.”

“You going to bend the knee to Queen in the North?” Tormund laughed, his disdain for Northern royalty readily apparent.

Jon set his jaw and glared at Tormund. “I only serve one queen.”

All amusement left Tormund’s face. “She’s dead.”

“Maybe,” Jon replied, climbing onto his horse. “Maybe not.”

“You’re the dumbest fucker alive,” was all he heard Tormund say as he rode away from the village.

~

_Two years ago..._

She woke.

Bathed in sweat she tore the flimsy nightgown off her body and threw it onto the floor. She promptly vomited. Pools of dark violet and pink puddled up on the stone floor, the sticky sweet scent of her sick making her feel even more ill. With shaking hands she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and got out of bed.

A small table was home to an empty bowl and pitcher filled with water. Mustering what little strength she had she poured water into the bowl. Her fingers gave way and she dropped the pitcher, smashing it to a hundred pieces. She didn’t care. She plunged her face and hands into the cooling liquid and mentally sighed.

She never felt so hot before. The heat was under her skin and it was burning her from the inside out. She itched terribly and felt like she didn’t belong in this skin.

 _Jon_ , she thought sadly.

“My Queen?”

Daenerys pulled away from the bowl to see who had entered the room. A young woman with olive skin and dark hair stood before her with a smile on her face. Her clothing intrigued Daenerys--the woman’s dress being a muted red with a black lace overlay. Her necklace, gold and with hexagon shapes, had a nebulous onyx stone in the center of her throat.

Daenerys pursed her chapped lips. “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

The woman’s smile widened. “I am Kinvara, my Queen. I serve the Lord of Light. I was the vessel he used to bring you back to this world. You are in the Red Temple of Volantis. Your child, Drogon, brought you to us.”

Daenerys balled her tiny hands into fists. It was too much to digest all at once. “Brought back?”

Kinvara’s smile faded. “What do you remember last?”

The memories flashed through mind: riding Drogon and igniting King’s Landing, addressing her army after she claimed victory, a long walk to the Iron Throne, the feel of its cool metal beneath her fingertips, and Jon...Jon was crying, then she felt pain, nothing but pain, and the look of sorrow in Jon’s eyes...Her hands traced the scar on her chest. It was small, the skin raised and a dark pink.

The breath left her body.

“He...he killed me,” she gasped. “Jon...killed me.”

How could he have done that? What ever possessed him? He loved her...didn’t he? However that was not the main concern.

She destroyed King’s Landing. Her and Drogon. The Red Keep was covered in ash, stone upon stone in piles. Her nails dug into her palm. No...she was not the Queen of Ashes.

“That wasn’t me,” she whispered.

“My Queen?” Kinvara prompted.

Daenerys’ violet eyes filled with tears. “No--it was me. But, it wasn’t. That isn’t who I am!” Her face twisted in pain. “Why did you bring me back? To make me remember my awful deeds?”

“I didn’t bring you back. The Lord of Light did. If he were done with you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” the Red Priestess explained.

“Pardon. Why did the _Lord of Light_ bring me back?” she growled through gritted teeth.

“I do not know. That is for you to figure out. You are the one that was promised, the one that helped save us from the Great War.”  
“War,” Daenerys muttered bitterly. “I’ve fought many wars. I have saved thousands, if not millions, from slavery and tyranny and a wintery grave. I protect the weak and I serve justice for those who cannot get it for themselves.”

On unsteady feet she walked back to her bed and collapsed back into it.

“What I did to King’s Landing...” her tears slid down her cheeks. “Was an atrocity! You may ask why I did it...I do not know if I have a clear answer.”

The priestess said nothing.

“I lost my child, Viserion, to the Night King. I lost Ser Jorah during the battle of the Long Night. On my way back to Dragonstone I lost my other child, Rhaegal. After that I lost my closest advisor and cherished friend Missandei because of Cersei Lannister,” her voice became stronger with each passing word. “The only man that I have loved more than anyone in this world turned his back on me. I was alone. Alone.”  
She drew her knees up to her chest. “I had no love from the Northerners or anyone else. Do you have any idea what it is like to be drowning in grief? To starve and waste away because you fear your closest advisors want to poison you?”

She drew in a deep breath. “I’ve always had someone at my side. Isolation, being alone with your thoughts, can be a dangerous thing, priestess.” She stood up and steadied herself. “I suffered. Everyone I’ve ever known, with the exception of...” she couldn’t bring herself to say Jon, “has tried to restrain me. And what for? Because I have ideas that are terrifying for a woman to have?”

She returned to the basin and splashed her face again. “I was used my entire life. My brother traded me like I was a brood mare. Others used me for my body. The Northerners used me, my army, and my dragons to fight off the Night King. They never thanked me, not a single soul.”

She continued on. “When I saw all those people in King’s Landing, I saw nothing but rabble on a board. Pieces in a game of war, to either be defeated or claimed. It didn’t matter whose side they were on, they would turn. ”

She faced the priestess directly, her violet eyes almost glowing. “I don’t know what went through my head but I wanted to clear the board. It may not have been right, but it was the decision I thought was best. They wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.”

She laughed bitterly. “Let them call me the Mad Queen. If they knew of my sacrifices, the things I have faced, they would be mad too. It’s easy to paint me as the villain, but my allies, my true allies, know what I am, and that is all that matters.”

Kinvara smiled. “My Queen, let us clean you up and find something to wear. You may stay here as long as you like, so you can regain your strength.”

“Where is Drogon?”

“We have not seen him since he brought you to us. I’m sure he will return in time, my Queen.”

Daenerys nodded and allowed the priestess to lead her to the bath house.

~

_Present day..._

Daenerys walked through the marketplace while clutching her cloak close to her. She needed to get to the docks. She wouldn’t stay in Essos for another second. Drogon had not returned and she couldn’t wait for her child forever. Two years was more than enough time to wait.

She didn’t have a plan. At least, not much of one. She knew she had to return to Westeros. She may not have her armies anymore, but she knew of at least one person that would still be loyal.

She reached the docks and studied each ship. None of them seemed safe but she wasn’t safe here in Volantis either. Rumors had already spread that Daenerys Targaryen was alive and it was only a matter of time before someone sought her out to kill her.

After several minutes of deciding, she found a ship that was captained by a woman.

“Where are you sailing?” Daenerys inquired.

“Sunspear. You have gold?”

She nodded. “You can have it all. When do you depart?”

The woman smiled. “Now. Is that a problem?”

“No,” Daenerys replied. “It’s perfect.”

The beautiful queen pulled her hood even further over eyes. It was going to be a long journey but it would be worth it.

She hoped.

~

Jon had ridden for hours, maybe a few days. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t stop to rest or eat and chose instead to push on to make it the Wall. It would take even longer to make it to Winterfell, but he couldn’t just push his horse that much. He was already making the horse exhausted.

He thought about Dany constantly. It was foolish to believe she would be alive, but he wished it with all his heart. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how he had no choice, and most importantly, that he loved her very much and that she was more than just a queen to him.

Queen...

His mind switched to Sansa. He didn’t relish the idea of returning to Winterfell to speak to her, but he had to tell her what he felt. He didn’t care to hear her side of things--what she had done was unforgivable in his eyes.

His sister had a lot to apologize for but he knew she wouldn’t. That’s not how Sansa behaved anymore.

He sighed. He hoped he would reach the Wall soon....

~

Arya Stark leaned over the edge of the ship. The warmth of the sun and cooling wind on her face--she never felt anything like it. It was a feeling she would never get used to. At times she missed Winterfell, but the thought was fleeting. Her home wasn’t the same anymore--it was missing most of her family.

Only Sansa remained, and though Arya loved her sister dearly, she couldn’t live with her. She had changed too much, matured in a way she couldn’t understand and never would. Bran she couldn’t even begin to fathom who and what he was. It didn’t matter how many times he explained it, she just couldn’t make sense of it.

The person she missed the most was Jon. He was far away, just like the rest of her siblings, but Jon she at least knew and understood.  
She put her thoughts aside and breathed in the salty air. Sailing the western sea was an adventure every day. She had discovered small islands, though none were inhabited, except with new and interesting flora and fauna. She wouldn’t trade this life for anything. It was far too exciting and the thought of being a lady in a castle sewing by the fireplace made her sick.

She gazed off into the horizon. The clouds were beautiful. Even the tiny black one that seemed to get bigger and bigger.

“What the...” she said to herself.

She took out her spyglass and aimed it at the growing black speck.

It had wings and a tail. Red horns.

“It can’t be.”

She called to the crew. “Follow that dragon!”


	3. Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon returns to Winterfell and Dany has a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's small, short chapter. It has been a busy week with the holiday and all. Sorry! I figure a small update is better than no update at all.
> 
> header image: jon-erys @tumblr

__

 

 _Daenerys strode down the hall with her steps full of purpose. The hour was late and she pulled her cloak over her head. She hoped the dark blue fabric would blend in with the darkness. She was cold under the thin cloak, her only clothing being her wisp of a nightgown, which was sheer and a pretty pink color. She had planned on being in bed and asleep by now but she couldn’t even close her eyes._  
_She counted the doors until she came to one that was nearly last in the hall. Her heart was beating fast and she held a hand over it. She tried willing it to slow down but the effort was fruitless. She drew in a deep breath._

_Her delicate hand knocked three times on the old door but she barely made it rattle. She glanced down at her sandaled feet as she waited for the door to open. Hopefully she would be well received._

_The door opened just enough for her to step through, which she eagerly did. It closed behind her and before she could take a breath to begin to speak strong arms enfolded her and pushed her against the door._

_Her hood was yanked off as soft, welcoming lips met hers. A small moan escaped her as her nightgown was being pulled off._

_“Jon,” she whispered between kisses. Her hands were trying and failing to take off his belt._

_“Dany,” he growled, moving her arms so they rested on his shoulders. He undid his belt and threw it on the floor._

_His lips never strayed from hers. When they were both fully nude he took her in his arms and lifted her off her feet. She embraced him tightly, never intending to let go. He was warm and his presence so calming and comforting Daenerys wanted to wrap him around her like a blanket._

_He carried her to the bed and lay above her, kissing her until she was breathless. His tongue slid in her mouth and tangled with hers and she wondered if he could taste the sweet wine she had with her dinner that evening._

_He trailed kisses down her neck all the way down to her cleavage where he gave a light kiss between her breasts. His rough hand stroked her inner thighs and started gently circling her clit. Jon licked and sucked her light pink nipples, teasing them with his teeth and tongue. His eyes met hers and she bit her lip, making the smallest of moans and sighs._

_Daenerys didn’t know how she could keep quiet. He was drowning her in pleasure and love and she never felt more at peace than when she was in his arms. He slipped two fingers inside her, making a come-hither motion as he worked inside her, and his thumb still softly circled her clit. She gripped the sheets, pulling and tugging as the tingling feeling in her stomach became stronger and stronger._

_Right when she was on the edge, he pulled away and spread her legs. She nearly screamed when she felt his warm, wet tongue lavish her clit and delicate lips. Her hands gripped the top of his head, pushing him down while she arched her back to grind her sex against him._

_His tongue slid in and out inside her. She lightly pulled his hair, completely disheveling it from its usually perfect man-bun. The tingling feeling finally became so strong she couldn’t hold back anymore._

_Her legs shook and she swore she could taste the stars as the pleasure overwhelmed her._

_“Jon!” she exclaimed through gritted teeth. “My love...it’s too much!”_

_He kept going, lapping up her sweetness. She could feel his cock, hard and pulsing and aching to be inside her. She wanted him, more than she ever wanted anyone._

_His eyes met hers again and they gazed at each other. He smiled, his eyes crinkling as he tenderly stroked her cheek._

_“I love you,” she whispered._

_His smile grew wider. He kissed her lips as he entered her. He cradled her close as he began thrusting deep inside her._

_“Dany,” she heard him saying in the barest of whispers. “I love you.”_

_She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. She was beyond exhilarated to be with him. Her mind flashed back to the house with the red door and the lemon tree outside her window. She imagined a child in her arms, Jon standing beside her._

_Perhaps it was an impossible dream, but Jon made her think the impossible didn’t exist._

_They held each other with their hips moving in perfect rhythm. She nearly cried out when she felt him fill her with warmth. He kissed her lips._

_“My Queen,” he said huskily. “Now and always.”_

_She thought her heart would burst._

_Perhaps it had--pain radiated from her stomach and flooded her limbs. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Why did everything hurt so much?_

_“Jon?”_

_Tears fell from her eyes. What was happening?_

_“Jon!”_

Daenerys eyes opened. She must’ve been dreaming again. The nightmares were getting worse and worse and becoming more frequent. She turned on her side in the creaky bed, listening to the waves slap against the ship.

If Jon really had killed her, why did he do it? Why did no one talk to her? She wasn’t a crazed dog to be put down. She rubbed her eyes, willing herself not to cry.  
She shifted in her bed and to her disgust the bed was wet. Did water get in while she slept? No, there was no window or leaks in the wood. No cup lay anywhere either, so she wasn’t drinking when she went to bed.

Her hands smoothed her cloak and when she pulled her hand back it felt sticky and warm.

Her eyes went wide and she nearly screamed.

“Is that...!”

~

“Blood,” Jon muttered. “Fire and blood.”

Fuck, he was talking to himself out loud again.

Jon had spent close to two days at the remains of the Wall. Only a few people were around--some wilding, some from the Night’s Watch. They had nothing to say to him and vice versa. The small encampment he created gave his horse a chance to rest at least, even though he didn’t sleep much himself.

The towers and living quarters had been rebuilt and a lot of debris had been cleaned up. It was starting to look like how he remembered, just no Wall. Would they rebuild that too? There was no need anymore...

What else was there to protect the realm from?

He sighed. He had been riding for weeks. Or maybe it only felt that way. Traveling wasn’t one of his favorite things to do. Travel was only bearable when...he shook his head to clear it.

After what felt like a journey of eternity he finally reached Winterfell, his childhood home. He didn’t know the grounds as well as Arya or Bran, but he knew his way around well enough. A pang of regret and sadness crept into his heart. He thought he would never return here.  
Winterfell was the beginning of the end for him.

But especially Dany.

His chest ached. He missed her. He loved her.

He never loved anyone the way he loved Dany. She was his queen, the only woman he would ever bend his knee to. Killing her still tore him up inside and he blinked by angry tears.

He sighed and pushed all thoughts aside. As much as he didn’t like returning to Winterfell, he needed to stop and rest again, and as long as he was being honest, he needed money. The coins he held were not enough to book passage anywhere or even order a meal at a tavern.

He hoped that Arya’s room was intact. He knew she had some gold hidden in a secret place and it was a decent amount too. Jon could only pray that she didn’t take it with her.

The guards didn’t stop him when he came through East Gate and he didn’t know what to make of that. Was no one on guard? He headed to the stable to settle his horse in. He had finished making sure the horse had water when he was approached by a guard.

“The queen wants to see you,” was all he said.

“Fine,” Jon replied. “Tell Sansa I’ll see her in a moment.”

Jon ran a hand through his black hair, tucking a few strands into his bun. Maybe Winterfell was more guarded than he realized. He shrugged his shoulders and laid a hand atop the pommel of his sword.

He would go see Sansa. Most likely she’d be in the Great Hall, given that it was early afternoon. He made his way there, now seeing more and more guards out and about. Everything was normal and a far cry of what it was just a couple years ago, and Jon wished he could stay here. Well, almost wished. He couldn’t live with Sansa.

He entered the Great Hall and there she sat at the head table, a gleaming silver crown of two direwolves howling resting upon her head. Her hair was just as coppery as he remembered with not a hair out of place. Her blue eyes studied him warily. Guards flanked both sides of the Great Hall and Jon suddenly felt ill at ease.

“Welcome to Winterfell,” she greeted, a small smile playing about her lips.


End file.
